


What day is it...?

by makeme85



Category: Preacher (TV)
Genre: Drug Use, F/M, PWP, Porn Without Plot, The Author Regrets Nothing, read the notes for more information
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:40:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25594447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makeme85/pseuds/makeme85
Summary: This is a scene from what I imagine a really sweaty and naughty weekend (or something like that) with Cassidy is like.
Relationships: Proinsias Cassidy/Original Female Character(s), Proinsias Cassidy/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	What day is it...?

**Author's Note:**

> So... this involves drug use.  
> And if drug use and sexual interactions while being on drugs and/ or half asleep make you uncomfortable or trigger you STEP BACK NOW!  
> I'm not tagging this as dubious consent or anything. Because it isn't. It is totally and absolutely consensual.  
> And I'm so not sorry for writing this bc it was just too hot to write. I have no shame. Thanks.
> 
> And there are no condoms. For what little our OFC knows about him they really should use them.  
> BUT! This is my fantasy! Always use condoms irl!  
> But fantasy is not reality and I want no condoms in my fantasy.
> 
> Hope you enjoy ;)

It is late. Or early. Is it morning? I don't know... The days and nights are a blur and it feels like one long day that doesn't end...

I'm lying on my bed and I'm naked. The covers are loosely draped around me and I'm barely able to move. I am awake for days now and my body is aching for various reasons. I'm in some kind of weird head space, feeling the ecstasy wearing off and the joint taking its turn. It's a nice and fuzzy feeling and simultaneously a desperate attempt to get some rest. Not exactly falling asleep but not being awake either...

I'm not alone. There's someone with me. Someone I haven't been with in a very long time.

Sometimes we don't see each other in months or even years... We did bump into each other the next week a few times.

But every time our paths cross we end up in my apartment or a motel room. Or. Somewhere... Else. And every time I don’t know if I regret it or not. I do regret it on one hand because my body's giving me the hardest time while getting rid of all the substances. Every. Time.  
On the other hand I don't regret it and I will keep doing this with him again and again on every occasion possible because every gasp and droplet of sweat is worth it. Every. Fucking. Time.

And despite all those encounters over the years I don't know much about him...  
I do know that the name I've panted and screamed so many times isn't his first name. I do know that he's insatiable (with both sex **and** drugs) and that he's strong for his physique. I do know that he's a tramp and a troublemaker. I do know that he's Irish. I've always known that there's something unexplainable about him and that he's probably older than he looks. Much older.  
He always loves to tell stories and many of them (as far as I'm able to remember them through the haze) don't quite match his visual age but feel so real when he's telling them. So he either is a blunt liar with no shame thinking I'm the most ignorant person on earth or...

I've never asked. He never told any more and I never asked for more. I've learned that sometimes a mystery is better than the truth. But this time I haven't seen him in four years. I know him for 15 years now. I've got older. He didn't. He looks the exact same. except for the hair. Last time I've seen him he was clean shaven around the head with longer hair left on top... now he's blond... suits him...  
And there are new tattoos. The huge magpie on his chest. Fits...

I don't believe in fairytales and maybe he's just aging **very** well but I'm at a point during our time together where serious questions start to pop up in my mind. And if I'm not hallucinating (something that's very likely after 2 days or so of being awake but when I saw him before getting here that 2 days ago I was 100% sober) he actually didn't age a single fucking day.

Maybe he will tell me one day. Maybe I will ask one day. Maybe.

But... whatever it is about him I will relish it as long as it lasts. Or as long as I can take those bad, bad hangovers... that he doesn't seem to have. Not really. Neither for his menu of substances nor for his level of consumption.  
And... if he really does not age... visibly and physically... maybe I'll be to old for him one day... at a certain age the sex alone would be a challenge. All drugs aside.

I'm trying again to figure out if it's morning or evening. Or midday maybe... The shutters are closed. They are always closed. No matter where we stay. It's not unusual for drug sessions to stay in the dark so you don't have to see the days pass... I've had my fair share of partying during my twenties so it shouldn't feel that strange...  
But it does. With him.

The only light in the room is coming from the TV which is on mute. God I'm so tired... I'm hurting in all the right places...

I'm just about to drop the joint back in the ashtray when a warm buzz carries me away and I close my eyes. It's the ecstasy. it's coming back. As it always does. It's like being surrounded by a fluffy cloud and I can't help but take a deep breath and letting out a long sigh of contentment.

A few moments later I recognise movement next to me. He knows that my buzz is back. He knows and he's coming after me. I'm not really here but I instantly get excited and I shiver involuntary when I feel his large hand on my breast with soft pressure. He captures the gasp that is about to leave my mouth with his own and as soon as he feels me responding he nudges his head forward to deepen the kiss and his hand wanders from my breast over my stomach to my pubis and I'm shivering again just from him gently cupping this sensitive and sore area.  
He feels my pussy twitch under his mere touch and sighs into my mouth, presses himself against my side and his hard-on against my thigh. My head is swimming and I want to grab him and take him deep, want him to please, please ravish my delicate flesh once more because it hurts so good...  
But I'm too tired. I can't even articulate any words. All I can manage is a pleading sigh. And he answers with a soft hum when breaking the kiss and making his way down. He makes himself comfortable between my thighs, lazily kissing and softly biting along them. They're sore too and already peppered with love bites and every new touch of his lips and soft scratch of his teeth is making me twitch involuntary. Everything's on autopilot now. Every movement, every noise. And the lightest of his touches already feel so intense that I see stars. The mixture of being completely worn out and sleep deprived, the substance induced head space, the xtc flashback, him exactly knowing what he's doing and last but not least the intimacy and familiarity of it all makes me float and I see little lights and sparks appear before my mind's eye wherever he touches me...

But he's conspicuously leisure in his actions and I realise that he's tired too. well, as far as he's able to get tired at all...  
But it's different this time. Everything's different this time... still the same and familiar but... honestly I have no idea. We hadn't seen each other for the longest time ever since we've met and yeah. Joy of reunion and all, totally normal. But there is something else. As I said before I don't know much about him and I have no idea what he's done or has been gone through in the last 4 years but he looks more lost and is more melancholic and emotional than usual.  
And he's relentless. I mean. Insatiable was already an understatement... but... **this** was crazy even for his standards. As though something was erupting, bursting or... releasing. I don't know. He nearly made me faint a couple times from either kissing me with a never known level of gentle intensity or from pounding me almost too hard.  
And for the first time ever he creates the impression of being...  
exhausted.  
relatively. but still.  
It shows.  
Makes me wondering if he held back all the time...-

I twitch again and my thoughts are brought back to the here and now because he's about to leave my thighs, kissing and nibbling his way to where I need him the most and there's a particular hot rush of anticipation striking trough me and down to my core and I feel my damn pussy drip and throb and he stops. He stops and just hovers there for a few seconds. He's so close I can feel his heavy breath and he just hums with relish and something else mixed into the sound. something that is scarcely audible and sounding like an actual growl from deep down his throat. Hallucinations from the drugs? Maybe. But he did this several times. I don't know how he's doing it but I got the impression that he somehow senses my arousal a long time ago.

That thought causes another yet softer rush to run through me and noises start coming from my throat. they're weak and hoarse and elicit another little hum from him in turn. Only moments later he closes the distance and I feel him on me, starting to work me slowly and with caution, carefully letting his tongue stroke along my folds to where my clit is and sucking gently. My legs quiver and he props them up while repeating his action with deadly precision and accompanied by a pleasured sigh. This forces a long and serious moan from me and my legs quiver against his hold. He stops again but doesn't leave and I can feel that bastard grinning against me.

Yeah, you did that. You proud?

I'm reduced to nothing but my senses and intuitive reactions and I'm completely at his mercy and he loves it.  
I love it too though. But it also drives me mad.

Keep going dammit! Please, god, keep going and do it again, please...!

And thank god he's not torturing me _that_ long and continues. Again he strokes me with his tongue all the way up and starts sucking. Only this time he stays there, keeps sucking and only interrupts to let his tongue flick over my clit every now and then. My body starts writhing as much as it can and my legs are constantly trembling now. He tightens his hold on them shoving himself forward and pressing his face more into me. When I hear him starting to moan with little smooch like noises in between I lose it. And I'm just about to feel it coming when he stops again and is on top of me a moment later. I just now realise that my eyes were closed the whole time and I instinctively open them to the sudden loss of my approaching orgasm and the weight shift on he mattress.

He's not entering me though, not even resting his weight on me. He's again just hovering over me, propped up on his elbows and watching me. I want to complain but can't. I just writhe beneath him and he watches me with heavy lidded dark eyes and a soft smile, mustering my face.

I plead him with my eyes. My mind is so foggy and clear at the same time. I'm throbbing and heavy breathing since he laid hands on me and god I'm just so horny...

There's another little weight shift and then I feel his hand between my legs, letting his fingers trail along my folds, gently massaging the whole area and it's a small relief. Not enough but at least contact. He's still watching me, absorbing every reaction of my face, every twitch of my brow and every flutter of my nostrils. It's captivating to watch him in return -as far as I'm able to concentrate on anything else than his fingers, because he let's them slide through my folds and strokes and circles my clit ever so slightly and it's so frustrating because it feels so, so good and is so not enough and pleeeaase...!

Noises start falling from my lips again when he strokes a particular sweet spot and my eyes flutter shut. I force myself to open them up again and he smirks at me. Darkened and sparkling green eyes, the still tousled hair from before and that little smirk. He leans down and again captures the sounds I make and letting me taste what is a mixture of both our excitements from before and not that long ago. Still stroking and massaging me he trails kisses along my jaw down my throat to my breasts that are as sore as my thighs are and caresses them, kissing along them, teasing my oversensitive nipples with his teeth and making my breath hitch. another pleading sigh escapes me and he slowly kisses his way back up to my throat and neck that is -yes- also sore and buries his face there. I hear him taking a deep breath and sighing and when he comes back up again he looks more determined than fond and there's a tingling sensation deep in my belly, like being in a roller-coaster that's about to drop. His hand is coming to a halt and I recognise him changing the angle. When he slides two fingers inside me and starts circling them slowly without any further hesitation my eyes and my head roll back from the sensation and again it draws a long deep moan from me. I know he's watching me and enjoying his work. I writhe against his hand and want more. It's so pleasurably painful and I **need** more.

He's getting hotter himself the more he works me and I hear his quickened breath. When he kisses me again it's a little rougher than before and it's like a promise. It tells me that he will not be able to keep that Leisure Little Make Out And Quick Oral Sex Turns Into Edging Session up. That thought turns me on so much as he invades my mouth hungrily with his that another rush shots through me. I feel my clit throb against his fingers which causes another shot to tingle back upwards along my spine, making me buck against his hand and moan against his lips.

And that is when he snaps.

He grabs my hair, attacks my neck with his lips and teeth and starts fucking me with his fingers for good measure. I'm panting with moans and hoarse whimpers in between that either praise or curse him. And then, without any further warning, he retreats his fingers, lines himself up and pushes his cock into me. Up to the hilt. In one go. It's like a lightning strike for my nervous system that makes me see what I could only and best describe as the cerebral equivalent of a fucking test pattern. It makes me shout out loud and I hear him moan obscenely into my neck before he starts to continuously grinding into me hard. My hands try to find something to hold on to, blindly grasping for anything while my legs try to close around him -or at least it feels like they try to...

He keeps pounding into and grinding against me mercilessly, moaning and gasping into my neck and making me hear every little gasp and hitch in his breath. Even he -the ever talking- is beyond words and I absorb every of his noises and it fuels me so bad it's unbearable.

I feel it coming again and my moans transform into actual words. I feel my lips move but I don't know what I'm saying. But whatever it is he responds immediately by letting go of my hair and neck and probbing himself up. His thrusts get erratic and he grasps for my leg to open me up for him more and oh fuck keep going, god please don'tstopDON'TSTOPI'msoclosekeepgoingPLEASE!

At the second my orgasm is about to strike I feel him pull out and before I can even think of complaining I feel his mouth on me again. He's as erratic as before, eating me out messily like he is starving. He sighs into me continuously and I know he's touching himself, only moments from coming as well.

When I'm finally coming I shatter. I grind against his face and he responds by capturing every spasm and twitch of my clit with his tongue and lips, prolonging the hard waves that make me praise his filthy mouth. He's still working me through my high when I feel him tensing and hear a muffled shout followed by several little moans and sighs. I can feel his orgasm transmit into his actions and it triggers one last wave of pleasure to wash over me before I go limp for good.

For the next minutes the only thing audible is quick and heavy breathing mixed with noises of contentment. My throat is so dry and hoarse it burns. I blindly reach for where I think the bottle of water has been last and thank god it is there and I can reach it! Still in a lying position I try to drink from it but my motor function is practically not existing any more and a good amount of water is spilled over the bed and myself but I manage to actually get some of it down my throat without choking. I hear him huffing a weak laugh. He's still laying between my legs, his head resting on my hip, and he's softly patting my thigh two times. It's the last thing I can register before I drift off to him already snoring.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading =)  
> Feel free to leave kudos and/ or comments!  
> I love those high value quality gifts =D


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